Run
by deduced-it-bitch
Summary: Thor's banished, the Allfather is in the Odinsleep, and Frigga is burdened with Odin. What's going to happen when Asgard finds out Loki's a monster? AU where the Jotnar have been hunted, and Loki's the last one, and is on the run for his life.


"And for their crimes, all Jotuns are to be executed henceforth."

He knew this law, as everyone had. The Jotuns had been gone for centuries; they were hunted into extinction. Their lands have been lost to the winter, and no sign has been seen of civilization on Jotunheim He rapidly ran through brush and branches, tripping in his haste. _I must go- I have to find- I could_- he stumbled and was knocked down, rolling down a steep hill, and into a hideously rough tree trunk. Loki groaned, and drunkenly picked himself back up, ignoring the sharp-shooting agony in his legs. Leaning on the tree, he then began searching for an overnight shelter. He had staggered across a small burrow, low in a stone crevice, he squeezed through the ragged crack, and collapsed inside it, breathing heavily, clutching his bruised arm to him. He built no fire, hunted no food, and he felt the miniscule woodland insects crawl under him.

_Am I cursed?_

_ No._

_Why did he lie?_

_He wanted to protect you._

"Hardly,"he scoffed. And Thor was gone. He was on Midgard, and Father was in the Odinsleep, and Mother was burdened with Father. Who would be with him now? Who would help protect him against the kingdom? Who could? He passed over, clutching his sides, in suspense, and waiting to see tomorrow. Maybe.

His back ached terribly, along with his neck; he felt the cuts that had tattered his arms, and the spiders gracing his hair. He pulled himself out of the gap in the log, with much distress, and laid upon the forest floor, spread eagle for moment. He breathed the fresh air, which differed from his shelter, and he pulled himself up, anxious to move further away from Asgard. He had protective enchantments, yes, but he was hardly invisible. As he walked on, he kept mind to his footsteps, careful to tread only where footprints would not be made. The Asgardians were excellent hunters, as well as warriors, and that in only itself was terrifying. He made to leave, but turned to leave an illusion of himself still sleeping in the hole before moving on. _Perhaps that could stall anyone approaching me. _

He walked in silence, apart from the crunching of the twigs and leaves under his feet.

_Look at him! The prince has betrayed the palace, Asgard, and _all _our people!" the nameless man had pointed. "This trickster has lied to you all, and his lies sit there in his eyes! Unseen to all… but I have seen this monster for what he really is!" The shock was evident on the faces of the people of Asgard, for no one talks of anyone, nonetheless, the royal family, and even further, the crowned prince, in such a manner. "I tell you all, the prince, Loki, is not who we have been told he is! For behind the mask of pale skin, there lies a _Jotun_!" He heard the gasps of the people. How absurd! For this man must be quite foolish, and certainly a drunk for such thoughts! The prince, a Jotun!_

Loki walked dazedly, running through all his options, and ignoring all his body's protests. No Jotuns were safe in any realm. It is clear to all that they are to be executed upon discovery and without mercy or justification.

The birds were melancholy, it seemed, as their tunes were less than cheerful. He paid attention to this, and then quickly disregarded it. _They can't save you either, best get on with it. It's over. And Thor isn't coming. You're your best bet, now._ He picked up the pace, determined, and began to trot, weaving through the trees.

_"Yes! I have seen it with my own eyes! The beloved "prince's" transformation! The skin he wears now is nothing but a disguise! He held the Casket, and I watched, as the blue blotched his skin, and the red swam into his olive eyes! I saw as the prince became his true form, for the casket reveals all!" More people began to gather at this man's fierce words, claiming the impossible. The elder man paused to take in the crowd's disbelief, and he continued with a smirk, as he stared as the prince. "Asgardians! As you know, it is not in the way of Asgard to know the further studies of magic! And shapeshifters are unheard of! We have never known of such things, and we care not for them! But Loki, man of lies and deception, is both and has been so since his first appearance as a small youngling! Does it not perk your interest as to why this boy has turned out of thin air? Behold! An Asgardian, who is a shape shifter AND prodigal in the magical arts. Is it really so believable that this is only chance?" "Sir, you will do well to silence yourself! How dare you announce your accusations of the only son left of the King and Queen! And with the Allfather in the Odinsleep? How cowardly of you," a commoner called out._

_"Then what a more perfect time to test my announcement? Surely the prince has nothing to hide?"_

_And some murmurs were muffled at this. If the prince really did have nothing to hide, why should he be afraid to hold it? He stood in his place on the royal court, looking upward with indifferent dignity. But he was different today. If it was his slightly shuffling feet, or his wringing of his hands behind the back, no one knew, but he was afraid. He never spoke, because no one would listen. Loki Odinson, the second-born Prince of Asgard, was not to be trusted and not to be listened to and everyone knew that. He is a liar, and he has tricked many, and he is secretive. The kingdom does not see him much. And when he is seen, he is avoided for the fear of deceit._

_"Go on, little prince. Accept my challenge, take the Casket and hold it before us all!"_

_"I prove nothing, and I need not to. I am insulted by your accusations, and your idiocy shows I owe you, and the kingdom, nothing."_

_"Why not? What have you to hide, then?"_

_"I have nothing to hide."_

_"Then why do you avoid it?"_

_"I have no time for your foolishness"_

_"Then come on, trickster, give up your trick, or prove you have none." And the prince scoffed and stormed off from the court. This did not bode well on the kingdom. The prince had fled the palace, in secret, or at least that's what everyone was saying. No one had seen him for days. Of course, everyone that had thought of Loki as the pale little prankster, and the younger brother of golden Thor, had to rethink. Why would Loki refuse if he had no secret?_

He warily took off his worn boots, wincing at the pain of his blisters. He beheld his foot with the utmost care, magicking away his ailments, with a stroke of his fingertips. After both feet had been taken care of, Loki moved to his legs, as he carefully removed his trousers. He remedied the bumps and bruises as well as he could, although he found himself cursing that all the magic he could afford to avoid collapsing was to heal himself. He stripped off his tunic and removed those markings as well, on his back, stomach, and arms. He picked the leaves and twigs out of his never-ending, it seemed, growing hair, which now reached his middle. He slipped into the pond that he had been taking refuge by, practically moaning at the water soothing his muscles. He traveled far enough for the water to reach his waist, before dunking his head under to wash out the dirt and matted blood. It took a long time before he was satisfied with the cleanliness of his hair, brushing it through with his fingers. He poured water over his arms, scrubbing off the filth and sweat. He did not get luxuries like a bath very often anymore.

He nearly didn't hear see the man in the tree. The months of being a fugitive have taken their toll on him. He bent under the water as soon as he saw the man aiming at him with a bow, just in time, apparently, as he felt the water rush past him, with what must have been an arrow. Despite the lack of energy, and turned himself into a fish and swam at top speed around the shore of the pond, where he would be hidden. Unable to retain his fish guise, he returned to his original form, and chanced a peek around a great boulder embedded in the water to spy at the hunter with wide olive eyes.

He was gone. Loki leaned against the rock, chest hammering to the gods that he had left. He controlled his breathing to the best of his ability, but anything short of silence was too loud. The hunter would hear. He looked back again to make sure that he was gone, and it was so. He exhaled with relief so painful he might have died. He was wrong. He was so wrong.

The nameless hunter had been quite quiet and skillful in gracefully sneaking up from behind Loki. All at once, the hunter took a mighty grip on Loki's hair and drug him out of the water, stealing quite a satisfying scream from the weakened sorcerer.

"Look what we have here?" the hunter cooed at Loki, his hair wrung around the Vaneir's hand. "I found a little Jotun. I wonder what the price for you goes at?" You know, the Asgardians have a reward for your head. Double if you're alive." He unveiled some cord out from one of the hunters many pockets, and bonded Loki, with much resistance, and gagged him before throwing him over his shoulder "You know, I've heard of you. I just thought it was a rumor. You hear those a lot. A jotun's in the cave, a jotun's in the snow. You do occasionally find one after the snow melts from the winter months. The last time I saw one was about seventy or eighty years ago. But you don't look much like a jotun, do you?" He said as he pinched Loki's leg. "Skinny too. They're supposed to be these great, big beasts who run around in loincloths, of all things. Looks like you don't even do that. And they're supposed to have these bright red eyes, but you don't have those either. What a disappointment," the Vaneir sighed. He was nearly to the trail that led to a nearby city in a day or two's time. "But, I_ did_ manage to find the little Jotun prince that everyone in the eight realms left is trying to find. And guess who gets the reward? ME."

He had roughly a day and a half. His magic was spent, he was gagged, restrained, and under the constant watch of the hunter, though he was busy making a small camp. If there was any chance for survival, it was to somehow miraculously escape within the next day and a half.

"And if you think you're going to give me the slip," he mocked, pulling Loki's face harshly in his direction, "you'd be sorely, sorely mistaken." The Vaneir shoved Loki's face away, and into the ground, smearing dirt on Loki's cheek. And he would not escape before they reached the town.

In the dead of night, he ran. He bounded as rapidly as his legs would allow him to, barely dodging branches and thorn bushes that littered Vanaheim's forests. He tripped into a small swamp hidden in the trees and He trudged on, hurriedly, through the marsh, warmth or no warmth. The chilly winds were beginning to burn his numb skin and further into the wind he went. He gripped the rough branch, digging into his palms as he used all his strength to pull himself out of the tick, green water. _They cannot be far behind. _He tripped out of the bog, and dashed messily into the closest wood, branches jaggedly brushed him in the face. He looked behind him to see an arrow, hitting the tree a few feet from him and in his panicked state he ran further and faster than he knew he could go. Another nearly hit him. He came dangerously close to running into a clearing, with the best hunters in Asgard. Panic leapt up into his throat, thinking he was found, and he pulled himself backwards, slowly, as to not attract any attention, burying himself in a bush.

"Come out, come out, trickster! You cannot hide!" one called out, amusingly.

"You will not see the light of tomorrow!" another yelled.

"Come out now and our torture will be bearable!" a third chuckled.

And all these horrible ideas rang in his brain, playing like a broken tune, running round and round his mind in the palpable silence. With wide eyes, he covered his mouth to silence his breath as he looked down to avoid any possible eye contact that could reveal him. He lifted his shaking hand and projected a vision of himself running in the far side of the forest, close enough for the hunters to hear, and off they went, with a terrifying and unsurprising bloodlust. His relief was short as he heard,

"Where's Thor?"

_"Thor! Give it to me!" Loki cried as he fought for the battered book._

_"No! You never play with me!" Thor whined._

_"I never STOP playing with you, now give me the book, I NEED it!" At this point, Thor had Loki under the foot on his chest as he held the book high over his head. _

_"Play with me! I'll tell Mother!"_

_"Tell her, then, I've done nothing wrong!"_

_"I'll tell her about what you did to Sif!"_

_"Don't!"_

_"THEN PLAY WITH ME!"_

_ "FINE!" And Thor let Loki up and dumped the book on Loki's bed. Loki brushed himself off and looked at his older brother with a scowl before pouncing on him, screaming, and pressed Thor's face into the floor. "_

_"Loki! Get off me!"_

_"No! You tackled me first; I'm just giving it back to you! How do you like it?" Thor struggled and tipped them over where Loki kicked him in the chest. Thor grabbed his ankle and pulled it back to him. Thor pushed down on his shoulders and balanced himself on Loki's stomach and pressed Loki's wide arms into the floor._

_"Why are you being so mean?" Thor demanded._

_"Why are YOU being so mean?! I wasn't doing anything! You just barged in here and_

_demanded my attention, like you ALWAYS do!"_

_ "Boys!" Frigga stormed in and Thor jumped off Loki immediately. "What's wrong with you two? What is the problem?" her hands were on her hips, as mothers always seem to do, and she looked _very_ angry. And even more disappointed._

_ "Loki won't play with me!"_

_ "Thor won't leave me alone!" _

"He… he did not come."

"But he loves a good Jotun hunt!"

"That may be true, but he is unwell. He did believe the Jotun was his brother."

"He knows better now, does he not?"

_"This is ridiculous. You fighting over something like this? You two are brothers, and you're stuck with each other for the rest of your lives, so I suggest you better take care of one another." And she stormed out, with a roll of her eyes. Loki looked at Thor and Thor stared back and eventually mumbled, _

_"I am sorry that I hit you, brother."_

_"So am I," Loki sneered back._

"Yes, but he is conflicted and the Queen claimed that he has come down with an ailment."

"Did the queen and king plan this? Did they not tell Thor?"

"I do not know, but _I_ think this was not what they planned. But what can they do now?"

"They could silence the hunt?"

"No point, all the Jotuns are gone. He's the last one, we're sure of it."

_"I only wished for you to spend time with me, but you would not! Why don't you like being with me?"_

_"Because you're an oaf," he said softly, and honestly, and then broke out into a smile. And a moment later so did Thor, lightening the mood by leaps and bounds. "You know, you do not have to play to spend time with me."_

Alone. He was the last one. His cuts and bruises ached. He was tired. _Was it worth all this?_ he thought for a moment. All this foolish running? The Asgardians were going to find and kill him anyway, why prolong it? He horribly felt the urge to walk out and into custody. He _wanted_ to go with them, and end his suffering. Months of hunting and barely escaping, and pain and he was _tired_. Would it not be best to go in peace, before he died of heartache or starvation, or dehydration? And he nearly did. He nearly stood without fear and was ready to end this foolish chase. But this was only fancy. He waited.

He barely allowed himself to breathe as he watched the men get around and build a fire and small camp. He remained alert, and even strained, not daring to move a single muscle for one wrong move would be his last. They jested and sang in their merry mead drinking, and cooked the meat they caught in Loki's place. The fire crackled as the men turned the meat and the intoxicating aroma went sweeping Loki's way. He ignored his stomach's agonizing pleading for nourishment, pained as he was to decline, as if he had the choice. He pondered when and what his last feeding was. He remembered something like berries, or a fish. It could really be either. It was either three, four, or maybe five days ago? Six, at the most. All the days ran together anymore, and how was he supposed to keep track, when he had so many other things to worry about?

While he tightly leaned against the little trunk of the bush, he thought of the peculiar sensation earlier. His despair. Why did he instantaneously want to give up so _easily_? It's cowardly. Or at least that's what Thor would have said. _A warrior never goes down without some valiancy_, and he always said that before a spar, or battle, or anything, really. It may be cowardly, and it may be undignified but he _would not_ mind because being dead would have been much, much more pleasant than starvation, hypothermia, and being hunted like an _animal._ He was alright with that.

And where was Thor?

He waited until the men had left. He waited until the next morn, still shaken, and still exhausted. He looked out, timidly from the shrubs and approached the open area. The camp fire from the Asgardians had long gone out, but the sobering scent of burning wood still rang true. He found few scraps of food, despite Asgardian appetite, that had been discarded. He ate quickly, and doggedly, due to the lack of any nourishment for weeks now. And as Loki ate, he noticed his stomach grumble for the first time in too long, since it had gone silent long ago. The excruciating retching began again, and he started to regret eating at all. _It took so long for the pain to leave the first time._ Loki groaned in hunger as he picked himself up and began treading to the edge of the clearing, back into the forest, and away from the path of the Asgardian hunters.

Loki had planned to trek to his hiding grove, but the longer he had drawn on, he could feel his vision slipping away. He began to move quicker to the moderate safety of hi cove, afraid if he were to faint, and the hunters come back and drag him back to Asgard as their most prized hunting trophy. He gripped a tree branch, attempting to gain his strength, and he takes another step, before collapsing onto the leafy floor. He heard his own breathing, loud in his ears.

He had been poisoned. They were waiting. They watched as he ate the "scraps of food." He laughed to himself, "And with all your wisdom, you fell for it." His vision left him as he heard the trampling of leaves. They were coming.

**(ugh okay i'm sorry for messing up the entire plotline by adding a new scene and ugh i'm sorry i've been trying to update 5ever i'm trying hard ok)**


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